Golden Threads
by BlytheSarita
Summary: Sarah's journeys through the Labyrinth were undone, and made into a movie. The Soul of Sarah resides in a new body. She's pretty special, in both worlds. Destiny has a plan for our friends, and has made for some epic events. The M is for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I will only say this once….and only in this chapter. I do not own "Labyrinth" or any of Jim Henson's other creations. Nor do I own the David Bowie (one could wish), Jennifer Connelly, or any brand/celebrity name used. I'm not making a profit here. I'm writing things I want to write! So, in conclusion, please don't sue me!

This is my first attempt at ANY sort of fan fiction, so be gentle, but please comment often!

Thanks much, your faithful author,

BlytheSarita

**Golden Threads**

Ch. 1:

_Time had been reworked. The fates knew it, as their threads had many knots, and they often untied the cord from the beginning of it's time, and repositioned it. Each time the council of elders reordered time in a massive way, a cord needed to be moved. This time it was big. The soul of a young girl had to be put into a _different_ body. Destiny demanded a twisted and confusing plot. But how to keep the original events intact? An idea formed, spells were cast. The fates resumed their weaving, drawing the golden strands closer and closer in their grand tapestry._

Christmas Day was NOT Sarah's favorite day of the year. Sure, it used to be her favorite day. That, however, was back when she was a selfish child, and cared only for the delicious food and amazingly fun presents. This day, just like all the rest, found Sarah at her desk. Sure, the holiday gave her the day off from work, but it wasn't a day for celebration. To her, there was nothing to really celebrate.

The desk was strewn with trash and useful things alike. Books, pencils, jewelry, computer disks, soda cans, dishes, even an old pack of cigarettes littered the surface. The computer screen poked out between her CD rack and all of the cans. Sighing, Sarah picked up the only fresh drink on the desk and wished like all hell for cigarettes to appear in the pack. It had been a long year. She was ready for it to end. Frustration took over, as she typed, erased, and retyped the same paragraph in her short story. It would never turn out the way it should, it seemed. Turning, Sarah flipped on her entertainment center. Really, it was an old TV with a cable box and dvd/vcr combo on top. Already in the system was 'Labyrinth'. The movie always struck a chord with her. Pressing 'play', she sipped on her coke and silently wished for that cigarette to appear.

"Sire," the dwarf said, standing at the edge of the dais, "she's watching the images again." He had never quite followed her fascination with the mortal _movie_, but could see it's importance. All of them could. The overlapping realities were very apparent to all Underground inhabitants. Hoggle could see the old reality, where he had met Sarah Williams, just as clearly as he could see the new one, where he had not. In fact, this new reality did not have a Sarah Williams, sister of Tobias Williams, at all.

"Yes, Hoggle," the king said, "she's watching it again. Such a curious creature, this newer Sarah." The dual realities still struck him as strange. When she had rejected his last offer, _Destiny_ had decided to step in. The universe in which THAT Sarah had defeated him had been relegated to the world of imagination in the Aboveground. She had ceased to exist as a real person. She had never been born. To the Underground, the events had been very real, but in a strange way. They were remembered, and had consequences, but they also remembered her NOT being there. Much like double vision, the king made his choices based off of both images.

"I hate to see her like this," Hoggle said quietly, "when her spirit is so much stronger than she realizes." Yet the dwarf didn't turn away from the small mirror he held. He gazed at it sadly.

"Indeed," the kind whispered, "yet I find I cannot turn away. Such a pity, to waste those tears. Such a pity." Hoggle glance up at the king briefly, and then returned his attention to the girl in his mirror. Sarah was absorbed in the film. They always watched her as she watched the images. They always wished she could see the truth.

She sat on her bed, her attention focused on the box of images in front of her. 'Labyrinth' was easily one of her favorite movies. It had David Bowie in it, which alone amused her. The Muppet-like goblins and creatures were a simple joy for her to watch. The heroine was lovely, in that 1980's way, and the images were beautiful. If she were to analyze the movie, as she did sometimes, she found no particular reason why it should be her favorite movie. There was something _unfinished_ about it. The story, and certain images, simply struck her as important.

As the final confrontation began, running about the room with multi-dimensional stairs, Sarah began to notice details she hadn't ever noticed before. The arches had knots of serpents around them. The armor, that black leather armor, had the pendant emblem on it. Overlapping images that could not have been in the movie began laying over her vision. That enlarged pupil of David's became an intricate hazel, warm eye. Dark, but not the same. The faint lines on the actor's face became smooth. Looking at the pale costume at the very end, Sarah wondered at the cape's material. It looked like fluffy fur, but it _should_ have been feathers.

As the movie ended, Sarah slumped against her pillows in a daze. Images floated through her head. A tapestry of millions of unimaginable colors, deft hands weaving and unweaving, tying knots and cutting strings. There were a few shining threads, probably hundreds, but in the immensity, they seemed so few. The stretched back as far as she could see. The deft hands twisted a cord as they wove it, and it began to faintly twinkle. A hazy image of a blonde man in the distance. A sapphire blue coat. She felt a floating sensation, saw a light leaping out of a teenaged girl. The girl faded to nothingness, but the light traveled into a new body, tiny, unformed. All around her were spheres, crystal spheres. Everything faded to black as Sarah's mind screamed out for help, for an explanation.

Sarah sat up, glancing at the clock. Angry red numbers glared back at her, midnight. She stood up, stretching her aching muscles and adjusting her now rumpled clothing, and made her way down the stairs. She nearly tried to move around the kitchen in the dark, until she remembered what day it was. Nobody was home but her. Her step-father had gone to visit family for Christmas. Making her cup of tea, Sarah sat down on one of the stools by the counter. She reflected on the past few years. Why did everything turn out so rotten? Why were her visions coming more often, and with stranger images? Why did they always come after she watched that movie? Why was she never happy here? As she contemplated it, she didn't notice that her hand was no longer stirring the spoon about in the cup. Nor did she notice that the spoon still stirred. Sarah only saw the tiny flakes at the bottom swirling in ever changing patterns. Swirls and eddies mesmerized her, soothing her troubled thoughts.

The phone rang, bringing Sarah from her melancholy thoughts. She sipped her now partially cooled tea as she reached for the receiver. As her hand touched it, the phone stopped ringing. _Strange,_ she thought. Shrugging it off, Sarah sipped more tea as she climbed the stairs to her room. Slipping out of her clothes, Sarah silently prayed for no dreams at all, and slid between her sheets.

The Goblin King sat on his creamy throne, gazing into a crystal. He had been watching the girl for twenty-three years. The rules forbade him from going to her and interfering with her life, until she called on him, or fate dictated otherwise. He could take no actions to aid her, even when he wished he could. Oh, he could go to her in dreams, and whisper comforting words to her, but no direct contact with her in the Aboveground.

"Sarah, please," he said, shifting slightly forward in the seat, "accept those visions, remember, _believe them_." As she drifted off to sleep, the king prepared to watch over her dreams, to see what memories she would dredge up and relive this night. They were rarely pleasant, and often both king and girl ended the night in tears.

_Sarah walked through the party, cup in hand. She couldn't hear her steps on the hard wood floors, not over the loud noises of the party. Random frat boys she knew bumped into her, saying hello, and passing her through the groups. Stopping in a stairwell, a young man with a greedy stare stops her to chat. She smiles, recognizing him. He offers her a pill from his hand, "Caffeine" he called it. She giggles, tossing the pill down with a swig of the stale beer. "Vicadin," he says a moment later. Her eyes widen, and she slowly walks away. The visions of the dream blur. Suddenly, Sarah is in a bathroom, throwing up violently. _

_"What has she had?" she hears a familiar voice ask._

_"Besides the beer? Vicadin, Valium, xenadrine, I think."_

_"Shit"_

_The dream blurs a bit more, and Sarah finds herself standing on the street corner. A beautiful, familiar face stands in front of her. He kisses her, despite her illness. Telling her to ride home with their friends and get some sleep, he places her in a car she doesn't recognize. She falls and hits her face and shoulder on the corner of the curb, but eventually makes it into the backseat, to the giggles of drunken friends. Darkness and blurs follow._

Jareth frowns to himself. He knows this memory. This was one of many that he had tried to break the rules to stop. Drawing himself inward, he prepares to watch the rest of the dream, and to whisper comfort at the very end. The only time he can interfere with such a strong memory.

_Sarah's eyes begin to open slowly, feeling a heavy weight upon her. Then movement. Someone is _inside_ her, thrusting away. Her mind screams in panic and fear. Heavy hands hold her arms down, she can hear the panting, feel the sweat. The man thrusts awkwardly into her. Blackness and blurs reclaim her. Fuzzy vision, a large meaty hand in a cool bed. Roughly, the hand grabs at her breast. "I want you again," a throaty voice says. Again the weight is on top of her, and someone fumbles to gain entry. Succeeding, the thrusting begins anew, more painful this time with the bruising and dryness. Tears leak from her eyes. Blackness reclaims her._

_Sarah stands in front of a mirror, in a small blue carpeted dorm room. It's cold. She's inspecting herself in the mirror. A dark bruise runs from her cheek down to her jaw. Her shoulder and collarbone are bruised a lighter shade of purple. Her eyes are swollen and red, her lips cracked. Bruises line her biceps and wrists, her hipbones and thighs. A tiny smear of blood streaks one thigh. Her dark hair lies in limp strings. The only thing that shines about her image is that turquoise. Her eyes blaze forth in the brilliant shade. _

As Jareth felt the memory-dream begin to fade, and her heart begin to break anew, he spoke into her mind. "Do not let it trouble you, that others do not know your worth. It's okay, Sarah. It's okay. I promise you, one day, you'll be happy."

Sarah woke, slowly from the horrid dream, tears making dark tracks down her face. Turning to her pillow, she sobbed herself back to sleep. The king could only watch and weep with her.

_**Author's note: Okay, guys. PLEASE don't flame me! Just let me know how I'm doing on my first attempt. My BIG question is this: are the line breaks () too confusing as a point of view/time passing change? Let me know if I can make it easier to clarify when time passes or the view switches without blatantly saying it in the text. That kinda kills a literary style, ya know? Thanks for reading!**_


	2. Visions

Insert the usual disclaimer. I don't own anything but the original characters that I haven't really introduced yet. Oh, but the plot is mine. Especially since my muse took off with my cat. :)

_**Golden Threads**_

_Chapter 2:_

Sarah sat at her desk, once again. Typing away with some sense of satisfaction, she was working on her short story. Her CD player across the room was clicking between one CD and another. She was still humming the last song, one in Spanish, to herself. The story was finally making some headway! On a whim, she had cleared her desk of all but her most recently used items. Two water glasses and a soda can, along with a bowl of what her father lovingly called "gruel". It was one of her concoctions that fed her and didn't taste too terrible, but only required ONE pot to do it. Today was rice gruel, mostly burned, where her sticky rice had 'stuck' to the bottom of the pan.

She felt eyes on her, but that was a normal paranoid thought for her. She always felt someone watching her. Sometimes it made her feel very violated, and others it made her feel safe. Today, she was indifferent. She was finally writing without chewing a pencil to splinters. Her keyboard clacked away and the next CD began to play, with Sarah singing along in her sweet voice. This band was an indie band, a bit too popular for her usual tastes, but addictive all the same.

Jareth watched Sarah from a crystal. Her hair was a bit different from the 'uncreated' Sarah's. Where the Sarah that was portrayed in the movie had long, nearly black hair that hung fairly straight and thick, this Sarah's hair was a more moderate color, and nothing even resembling straight. Still very dark, still lustrous as ever, this new Sarah's hair had tones of red and gold streaked through it, with bouncing waves and curls coming to fruition, if she were to allow it. Currently, though, Sarah kept her hair cut fairly short, around her shoulders, and normally straightened it severely. Shoved into a short ponytail and jammed up under a bandanna, Sarah wrote her story.

Sitting at his own desk in his study, Jareth chuckled at how similar the 'uncreated' Sarah and the new Sarah were. Essentially, to him, they were the same girl, but with a change in appearance. The moss green eyes of the former gave way to the magical, brilliant shades of colors in the new. Sarah's eyes were like a sea after a storm. Grey and blue and green. Like a fae herself, Sarah's eye-color shifted with time and emotion. Sometimes, they blazed the brilliant turquoise, while sometimes they were the gentle calm of faded denim. Jareth longed to look into those magical eyes in person. Framing these, she had long black lashes, thick and supple, and finely arched eyebrows. The change in eyes is what really held Jareth captive. Where the first Sarah had straighter and thicker brows, the new one had distinct arches and sharp lines to hers. Thankfully, she never did the penciled in brows that many in her age had moved to. The history, the pain, and the wisdom that he could see pooled in her eyes was fascinating to him. While his special Sarah sat writing, the king sat and watched her, never ceasing in his thoughts about the differences and overwhelming similarities between the two.

_The fates worked their loom silently, listening to the song of life that the universe sang about them. They tied their knots, sliding strings into and out of the pictures they created. Indeed, they had "The Big Picture" in their very hands. The smallest fate held a needle in her tiny hand. Pulling on a sparkling thread, she located the newly metallic strand of a very old soul. She threaded it into her needle, and began stitching power into the life. She brought attention to the soul from the other caretakers of universes. So many universes existed, so many tapestries. Threads could be seen around her, some connecting souls from various universes. She smiled, and threaded a tiny crystal sphere into her tapestry. Soon, Destiny would be satisfied. Unification._

**Beep! Beep! Beep!** Sarah groaned, and kicked her foot towards the corner of the mattress. There was an alarm clock somewhere around there, and she was determined to make it shut the hell up. Contact! Her heel managed to find the snooze button, and she buried her head under the pillows. _A few more minutes_, she told herself, _and then I'll get up for work._ Darkness re engulfed her, and she fell asleep. Before she knew any time has passed at all, the beeping had returned. She repeated the process of kicking the helpless alarm clock and snoozing for about ten minutes for nearly an hour. Finally, with a groan and some very colorful cursing, Sarah launched herself from her bed. "Morning can bite my large white ass," she grumbled at her stepfather, as he attempted a greeting in the kitchen. Grinning, he simply pointed at the full coffee pot.

After quickly downing a cup of overly sugared coffee, Sarah practically sprinted through the shower, especially when she realized how late she had actually slept. Smearing on her concealer and other make-up, Sarah rushed through her routine. "Whose bright idea was it to schedule me in the morning, anyways?" she grumbled at the cat, who just looked at her aristocratically before yawning and curling tighter into the quilt on the bed. "Punk," she said, scuffing up the cat's immaculate black hair, "see if I bring you anything home!"

Jumping in her old car, Sarah sang along with the radio as she raced to work. Speeding, it seems, was the only way she knew how to drive. Arriving at work, barely in time, Sarah rushed into the bookstore, shoving an apron on over her anime t-shirt. At 23, Sarah felt that working in a bookstore's cafe was a bit below her, but it was easy and worked around her school schedule, so she just dealt with it. Giving a half-hearted smile to Mary, who had opened the cafe that morning, She washed her hands and began taking inventory of what needed to be baked, and playing barista. She really was starting to hate mocha.

A few hours passed, the girls talking about music and school. Jokes were made about Zepplin and Sex Pistols, with Sarah's random comments of "Mocha of DOOM" and random phrases from one of her language classes making Mary either giggle at her, or give her the "maybe I should call the men in white coats" look. It was normal, though. This was how Sarah managed to NOT strangle her customers on a daily basis. Weirdness, she was used to, and often proved to be her mental savior. Her mental images of things, her fairytales, her science fiction, her daydreaming. These things saved Sarah from the harsh realities that could have driven her mad. The realities that she faced often made Sarah sad, or melancholy. Some saw her as manic depressive. Others saw resiliency. Sarah was strong. Sarah was a basket case. Of course, the Goblin King thought she was perfect.

About halfway through the chilly workday, Sarah was ready to give up and go home. Her fingers hurt from spilling the boiling water over them, and she stunk like milk and coffee, but not in the good way. If there was one. Another cafe person had come in, and it was finally time for Sarah's lunch. If she could afford much of one. After settling for a cup of soup and some potato chips, she made her way to the employee breakroom in the back of the store. It was boring, but glaringly bright. A blue covered tabe sat in the middle, surrounded by tattered office chairs and grungy folding chairs. The flourescent lights glared down on marketing schemes and old magazines. With a sigh, Sarah settled into one of the ratty padded office chairs and gulped down her small meal. She flipped through a few pages of magazine, before throwing her head down for a few minutes. Closing her eyes, visions began to invade her mind. First, the small hands with the shining threads, then a hazy memory of a medical office, then a breathtaking face. She knew it. It was the Goblin King. Blone hair framed the exotic face. One eye, the color of sky and sea. The other, containing all the colors of the forest, browns and greens and golds. The ivory skin. Her breath caught. It was not the face of David Bowie, who had played the Goblin King in the movie, but of someone else. _But_, her mind whispered, _that IS the Goblin King. The real one._

Reaching forward in her vision, Sarah tried to touch his face. He stepped towards her, and then pointed to a clock. She looked down at herself, and saw her work apron and startled awake. She only had a minute to clock back in and get back to work. With a grumble, she cleared up her dishes and headed back up to "the box" as she thought of it. Mary asked her about her lunch, bur only received a mumbled response about an "overactive imagination" and "less movies, more sleep". Shrugging, they got back to work. Fake smile plastered on, Sarah turned to the next customer in line, taking their yuppie coffee order and answering questions.

Slumping into his throne with relief, Jareth gazed at a spinning crystal in his fingertips. He had nearly been able to speak with her. All he could do was motion to the idea of time, though. Time was running out, and not just in the way of making her late coming back from lunch. The fates had sent him a dream, and it all showed that he needed to secure his holdings and produce an heir in the near future. The kingdom to the West, known as Shazin, was plotting to invade, according to this dream The very thought of producing such an heir with anyone other than his soul-mate made him naseous. He begged fate to give him his reason to contact Sarah.

Days passed, much the same. Sarah blearily made her way through working, only to come back home and slump into her computer chair and write for a few hours, and pass out. Wash, rinse, repeat. Finally, school was about to start back up. Sarah, who was _finally_ finishing her degree, was glad to be back in the world of learning. Sure, it was her fifth year of school, but she had taken her time in deciding on her major. She had settled on Foreign Languages, with a minor in anthropology. The _other_ always drew her attention. Other cultures, other ways of communicating, all of it fascinated her. She often read the folklore of the cultures she studied and made friends with native speakers, or those who had lived in the countries that fascinated her. She had friends from China, Japan, Australia, the UK, France, Central and South America, New Zealand, Germany, Italy, Russia, and the Middle East. In a way, she knew she was looking for a place, a culture that seemed like home to her. So far, she had found cultures that she enjoyed, and each had something that made the right impression with her, but none had ALL of the parts that felt right.

Sitting at her desk, typing away at her little story, Sarah thought about her next semester. It started in a few days, and she was excited. Sure, she felt a little silly, like an elementary student. Most students wish school wouldn't start for another month, but there were a few classes that she was hoping would be worth her time. Reaching over to the cat, she ran through the class list mentally. "I wonder, Aurie," she said softly, "will mythology be really boring, or as interesting as it sounds?" The cat merely blinked her lamp-like eyes and yawned. The minty green flashing caught Sarah's attention, momentarily. She had been noticing small details like that more often lately. Just recently, she had been watching movies, and somehow took notice to the titles on the books that a character would have, or the type of car they drove. She especially had started noticing accents and speech patterns, and found that she could tell you exactly where the person came from, if she knew the language. Shaking her head, Sarah reached down and scratched the cat's ear. Perhaps she was just getting more observant. That's something she liked to think. Back to her scheduling for the next semester, she found that her free time would be fairly limited. When would she have time to fit her artwork and story into daily life? Again, she shook her head. _It doesn't matter that much, Sarah,_ she thought,_ it won't help you reach your goals anytime soon. Too much work to do._ With that, she flipped on her constant companion movie, Labyrinth, and turned herself back to her desk to organize her next few months.

Eyes watched her organizing. One the color of the sea, the other of the forest. _Such determination, and such a dream that she refuses to follow_. Shaking his head, the Goblin King turned to Hoggle. "Why does she obsess over the fictional version, Hogwal?" The dwarf huffed a moment, mumbling something about his name being improperly pronounced and then regarded the image in the spinning crystal orb.

"Well, sire," he said, "she seems to draw comfort from it."

"Comfort?" the king asked quietly.

"Something the wiseman said, sir," Hoggle grumbled, "I had to decipher it to mean that an old soul like hers would be more comfortable with the world of magic and fantasy, but that she is living in a world of logic and cold iron. Too bad he couldn't just come out at say it."

"The old man always talks himself in riddles," the king said, with a chuckle, "but he's well connected with the realities and fantasies." Hoggle merely nodded and returned his gaze to the orb. The small image of Sarah in the crystal was distracted. She kept trying to focus herself on her tasks, one of them writing more to her story, the other organizing her room into some semblance of clean. However, her attention constantly turned to the movies she watched. Labyrinth had ended earlier, leaving her wistful. Now, Phantom of the Opera flickered beautiful images and haunting music in the corner of her room. She sighed wistfully, thinking of the romances that the movies always showed. Her own life and romatic endeavors were nothing short of sad.

Sarah thought back on her past. She had always liked the fantastic, the magical, the very unrealistic. She remembered her first real boyfriend, back in high school. That hadn't lasted more than two months, before she realized that the drama associated with high school romance was just NOT her way of doing things. It had lacked a spark, any sort of wonder, like she had expected and hoped. He had been the first guy she had ever been able to really kiss. But even with the first attempts at more than a peck, no wonder had come into her thoughts. She hadn't tried again until college. She thought back to her first couple of years in college. She had lost her virginity, and hadn't done what she had hoped. She hadn't waited for someone she loved. He had been a passing fancy. While she knew now that sex was enjoyable, it still held no wonder for her. Slowly, she had fallen victim to herself. She began seeking only the physical pleasures with most of her male classmates. She began sleeping around a bit. She began drinking heavily and often. She remembered having a threesome with two male friends, just for fun. She remembered sleeping with three different guys in one night. Sadly, she crushed her cigarette into an empty soda can. _I was SUCH a slut and alcoholic back then,_ she thought to herself, _and I'm ashamed of what I was. _Glancing back at her movie, and yearning for simple, innocent romance, Sarah turned back to her story and began typing. _I hope I never date again._

Sarah had nearly flunked out of her first college. She had dropped out, moved out of her parents house, and into a shabby apartment. Barely heated, full of cockroaches, she had struggled to just keep things in balance. She had still done her usual routine of sleeping with anyone who would show her any attention. She worked as a waitress, in retail, and anywhere else that would help her make ends meet. There hadn't been much in the way of food, and she had quickly fallen ill. Eventually, Sarah had admitted defeat and moved back in with her family, as they moved halfway across the country. She had started over. She was back in school, working on a degree that she hoped would allow for travel and personal fantasies.

Turning off the television and lights, Sarah turned to the candles that sat on her table and tried to relax. She was tired. Scratch that. She was spiritually exhausted. In an attempt to stave off the nightmares, Sarah had began meditating before bed. At first, it had worked beautifully. Emptying her mind, and focusing on something natural, like her heartbeat, had let her relax and sleep without the nightmares and strange way of snapping awake in the middle of the night. Now, though, it was different. While meditations made her more calm at night, and more focused during the day, they had started having a strange side effect. Visions. Sarah had visions during her meditations, but refused to stop. These visions seemed important, but were, as of yet, undecipherable. With a few deep breaths, she prepared to clear her mind and focus inward. A slight smile played across her lips as the feelings began to fill her, and the images began to flow through her mind.

_A strange tapestry, glowing threads and flickering candles came into her mind. Small hands deftly weaving an intricate pattern. A strange clock was chiming. It had too many numbers on it's tarnished face. An ocean eye blinked, replaced by an earthy hazel one. A great winged creature landed on a stone wall. A circle of platinum, a single stone on one side. An orb, crystalline, rolling across leather. A trunk of wood, a swinging lock on it's latch, with light streaming from it's opening. Mumbled voices and glitter. The images coming faster and faster. A talking gargoyle turns it's head, glowing golden eyes aflame. It's great mouth opens and instead of the mighty roar, it whispers. "Sarah, waken from your slumber."_

Sarah slowly returned to reality from her meditations. The hauntingly beautiul voice of the gargoyle staying in her mind. Her candle had burned low, the incense having finished with no traces of it's smoke remaining. In the flickering light that remained, Sarah reached to clean up the table before bed. Looking down, a sparkle caught her eye. Thinking that craft glitter had spilled, she wiped at the shine on her hands, only to find it wouldn't come off. She turned on a lamp, but didn't see it anymore. Shrugging, she turned off the lamp and blew out the candle, crawling into bed. Snuggling into her covers, Sarah resolved to get more sleep and watch fewer movies. She blinked slowly, watching the moonlight play over the comforter, and then sat up abruptly. There, fully visible in the moonlight, was a faint tracery of silver across her hands and wrists. An intricate pattern, somewhat resembling henna, traced it's way up her fingertips and hands, fading at the wrists.

Jareth watched this in his crystal orb, and seeing the the silver tracery, he dropped it with a crash. Crystal shattering across the floor grabbed at Hoggle's attention.

"Sire?" he asked.

"It has begun, but I'm not sure what _it_ is" the king said, "but I really need to find out."

**Author's Note: Thanks to Not Human for the first review! I wasn't sure if I should bother continuing with the story until I had one! If anyone has suggestions, my muse ignores me after I get started, a lot...so yeah, I'm off to find another soda. Please review! I'll even take flames!**


	3. A Revelation

Usual disclaimer. Enjoy.

_**Golden Threads**_

_Chapter 3: Revelations_

Sunrise found the king in his library, pouring over a pile of ancient texts. The variety of languages and scripts could have been dizzying to anyone unused to the multitude of peoples in the Underground. He was beginning to get desperate. There was no mention of ways for him to contact his favorite mortal without her calling for him. He grabbed the next dusty volume, age worn but apparently unused for ages. Scanning the title _Labyrinthine Practices of Influence in Other Realms, _ he decided that this one was far more likely to have some form of help inside. Thanking the powers that be that time had little relation between realms, he conjured a new crystal orb, larger than usual. He placed it on an ornate wooden stand on the other side of the desk so that he could keep an eye on Sarah while he searched for answers. He began flipping quickly through the parchment pages, casting a mild enchantment so that his actions would not cause the old pages to crumble under his abuse.

"Magical Bribery of Purgatory Residentials, Heavenly Favors, Goblin Trickery, Guardian Creatures, what the bloody hell can _this_ do for me?" he yelled, huffing at the pages. Glancing down, he saw the next chapter heading. "Well, well, well," he said, "Guidance Visions for Mortal Believers. That sounds _awfully_ familiar." He bowed his head down to start reading the chapter. _Upon such mortals as believe in the magical races, visions may be bestowed in various states of consciousness as to guide their beliefs to suit the needs of the Underground, and more precisely, those of the Labyrinth, and it's wild need for mortal belief and dreaming. Such practices are occasionally dangerous, and must be undertaken with great care, for the regulations often cause grave disturbances and consequences. The first method is as follows..._

Aboveground, in her quiet and night darkened room, Sarah sat on the edge of her low bed. Marveling in the in the fascinating patterns upon her hands. She had quickly discovered that artificial light would not let the patterns show, that candle light barely showed the shimmer, but that moonlight let them show clearly. The pattern was still barely visible. She wondered at it. Where had it come from? What did it mean? Glancing at her clock, she saw that she would have to rise for work in merely a few hours. Not enough time to be fully rested if she tried to sleep, she realized. Rising, and slipping her pale blue robe on, Sarah lit a single white candle and began setting up a seemingly elaborate incense stand with multiple sticks. In the back of her mind, the combination of scents that would accomplish the most relaxing and contemplative state formed itself. Quietly thankful for her interest and study in spiritualities other than her family's, Sarah proceeded to light a sage smudge stick. The warm, smoky scent calmed her as she blew out the flame, and began circling her room. She closed her door, and asked the powers that be to remove any negative presences around her. Settling herself on a large pillow by her table, she hummed softly as she placed the smudge braids in a small dish on the table. She picked up a stick of amber, lighting it and quickly blowing out the flame. Next she placed lavender, sandalwood, myrrh, and lotus in a holder. An ambergris cone sat in the center. With a drop of benzoin on the plate, she thought about the meanings or hopes that these scents are intended for. Amber for love, comfort, happiness, and healing. Ambergris for psychic ventures and dreams. A little odd, she knew, but if it helped. The others were for things such as meditation, purification, healing, spirituality, psychic ability, protection, and even some specific things such as exorcism, love, elevation, and opening. The strange combination of scents were not unpleasant. Her mind formed an image of a temple, but not one she had ever been in. It was comforting, soothing, even. Settling into her meditations, Sarah cleared her mind and slowed her breathing, allowing the peaceful feeling to infuse her limbs.

_Incense sticks, hundreds of them. All smoking. The scent of magic. The self pulls inwards, focusing on a strand of gold and silver, sparkling like stardust. Awareness. The soul-string. Old wooden floors, plush cushions. Silk, shifting and wrapping about the body. This self is different. A sari, that is the silk. Strange weight on the face. A marble statue, and tiny ivory carvings. Elephants. A shift. Same thread. Soul-thread. New self. Linen and gauze. A heavy golden mantle about the collarbones. Thick bands around the wrist. Stars. Earth magic. Energy flowing up from her kneeling legs and into her hands. A bud blossoms at the feet of a statue. Earth mother. Inward, a shift. Farther back. Strange stone, opalescent. Flowing cloth, too light to have weight, like air. More incense. A black candle. Pass of hand, etched in silver and gold, candle turns to white. Mumbled voices. Nothing immediately recognizable. Familiar. Lilt of words, pattern of sounds. Meaning. A name. "Princess". **Sarah.**_

She startled out of her trance. "What in all the hells?" She looked down at her table, a tiny silver dagger, no longer than her finger lay next to the now black candle. A strange symbol was traced on the small dish in red. Red was on the dagger. Red, blood, was on the tip of her little finger. Left, she noticed, not right. She glanced about the room, but nothing else seemed out of place. Aurie, the cat, lay sprawled lazily across the sofa, her eyes dancing in the candle light. Her _turquoise_ eyes.

"Aurie," Sarah said softly, "what are you?" In answer, the large cat stretched from her spot and jumped up onto the table. She dipped her head, in an oddly bow-like manner, and then dropped something. A silver pendant fell from her mouth. Intricate, with ancient _familiar_ designs. A silver disk, with a blue moonstone set in the center. Gold etched designs circled it. Reaching out a trembling hand, Sarah picked up the disk. Similar designs in the shimmering silver now etched their way up her arms, glinting in the moonlight. "What is this, Aurie?" The cat simply cocked her head in a curious manner, and jumped down to cross the room. She nosed open the jewelry box on Sarah's dresser, and pulled out a fine silver chain. She carried it to where Sarah sat, depositing it next to the dagger. _Mew_.

Threading the pendant onto the chain, Sarah regarded her suddenly mysterious cat. "I'm assuming you want me to put this on, Aurie," she said, "but it had better not do anything to hurt me." She clasped the chain about her neck, and a warm feeling flowed through her body.

"About damned time," a female voice said. Sarah whirled around, searching for the source of the voice. "No, dear, you missed the point. I'm right in front of you." She looked down at the twinkling turquoise eyes.

"Aurie?"

"Of course!" came the reply. It was a whispering, old sounding voice. "Now, be a dear and scratch that spot on the back of my neck, so that we may have a little chat about your new-found best friend." She stretched, and sidled closer to Sarah, who tentatively reached out to scratch the spot that the cat had _always_ liked to have scratched.

"Well, this is certainly an odd turn of events," Sarah said quietly, to the chuckling sound of feline laughter.

Back in the Goblin Kingdom, the king sat at his desk regarding the crystal carefully. "I couldn't have worded that better, myself, Sarah." He leaned back, and searched for the volume on guardian animals, and animal communication. He also listened carefully, as Aurie began explaining a few things to her dear human friend.

A few hours later, the sun was rising in the Aboveground, and the incense had burned itself out in Sarah's room. She sat, enraptured with the discussion she was having, strangely enough, with her cat. She began thinking about the revelations that her feline friend and imparted to her, and things suddenly seemed to click into focus. She was not what she thought. The _Earth_ was not what she thought. A line from her favorite movie slipped past her lips, "Things are not always what they seem, in this place."

Jareth sat at his desk, in the musky library, somewhat in shock. He was listening to Sarah, but was unable to hear all that the cat imparted to her. He caught parts of it, as Sarah spoke to the cat, or, more often, too herself. He could only tell it was the cat by it's odd behavior, and by Sarah's reactions. He had seen the meditation turn into a ritual, all while Sarah was in her trance. He had seen the candle's color change. He had seen the dagger _grow_ from the surroundings. Little shivers had moved up the table, like rivulets of rain on a window, from the floors and walls, and even the wood. It seemed that every molecule of silver in that dagger was pulled from the traces of the substance found in other materials. It had literally grown upward from the wooden surface. He had noticed that Sarah's skin, on her hands, anyways, had taken on a faint shimmer, but one which he could not make out through the crystal. The only thing that he knew for sure, at this point, was that the entire Underground had been deceived. Magic was alive and well in the Aboveground, but it was not Fae magic. This was Earth magic, a completely different breed of power.

He pulled his book closer, murmuring to himself. "I know I saw it before I got to the chapter on visions...now where is it...let's see...YES! _Guardian Creatures_...that's it!" He began reading as quickly as his fae powers would allow, which was very fast, indeed. _Mortals in the Aboveground once had their own form of magical powers. Though the trait seems to have eradicated itself gradually since the Third Age of Maltasia, those in the hereditary lines continued to be protected by Guardian Creatures well into the Age of Separation. These creatures originally had a purpose and a set of abilities that is as yet unknown to fae. Their abilities were not directly known to anyone other than those possessing the appropriate bloodlines and magics. Types of creatures known to be guardians include the phoenix (which traveled with the fae for the separation), the wolf, the tiger, the cat..._

That was the first step, it seemed. At least it was fairly certain that Aurie was a guardian creature to Sarah. Jareth himself remembered a human friend of his, back at the time of separation, having a cat that behaved similarly. The young man had not seemed to posses any magic, but had been a descendant of some who did. Every generation, cats came to the family, one after another. Each cat had chosen a single person to bond with. He had seen it happen with leaders among the mortals. Some had a falcon or wolf that seemed to always be present. He sighed, thinking on this. Why would Sarah and her cat be displaying such attributes _now_?

He returned his gaze to the crystal on the desk, and his mouth hung open. Sarah, in the slanting rays of early sunlight, was glowing. Traces of gold wound their way across her skin, lacing with silver. A silver disk, no larger than the end of his candle, hung about her neck. It had a moonstone set in it, a swirling blue, and slightly glowing. He looked closely. The inscriptions that swirled about the stone were in several languages, and most of them were _not_ normal Earth languages. One such inscription read quite clearly in fae. _Princess._

**Author's Note: Sorry that it's such a short chapter! Thanks again to Not Human for the reviews, I really appreciate knowing that _someone_ is reading the fiction! If you have any wishes or ideas, please feel free to let me know!**


	4. Learning

Insert the usual disclaimer.

_**Golden Threads**_

_Chapter 4: Learning_

"Child, there is a great deal for me to teach you, but the rest of the world cannot be interfered with. We'll work on it when you get home tonight," Aurie said. Her voice was both ancient and childlike, wise and playful.

"But Aurie, there are so many questions!"

"You have a job, and school. People would begin to wonder where you had disappeared to," the cat began, but Sarah cut her off.

"What of all this gold and sliver on my skin! That would seem a _bit_ odd, ya know," Sarah said harshly. She was worried. This insane evening ended with her talking to her cat, and then being told to go to work as if nothing had happened. Unfortunately, her skin had _artwork_ on it, which was a tad be conspicuous in a coffee shop. Feline laughter chimed, an odd trilling sound.

"They're called disguises for a reason, dear. No time to teach you the glamour to hide it, so you'll have to wear the jewelry, instead," the cat said, matter of factly. Confused, Sarah watched as the cat jumped to the old jewelry box, again. She pulled two small bracelets from the box; one silver, and one gold. Sarah was a little confused by the bracelets. She had never seen them before. They were lovely, really, visions of delicacy and intricately woven. Curiously, she clasped one on each wrist. The patterns on her skin began to fade, and after a brief moment, the bracelets glowed, and things looked normal.

"Too strange," Sarah said, "First, I get all shiny and glowy, and my cat talks, and now my jewelry box is an endless source of wondrous adornments. I think I need a shower." Aurie chortled at her sarcasm, as Sarah picked up a towel from her closet and headed towards the bathroom. Sarah turned the water on a bit warmer than usual, and scrubbed herself under the steaming hot water. She let the spray hit her face, the water's pressure seeming to drain away the strangeness of her situation. She wrapped herself in the large towel and made her way to her bedroom vanity to put on her makeup before work. She put in her contacts, and then realized that she couldn't see with them in. It was strange. She took them back out and could see as clear as anything. Having been nearly blind since birth, it seemed like a miracle. She turned to look at Aurie, who seemed to smile in response.

"Sarah," she said, "you're still wearing the necklace and bracelets, your vision is fine with magic. I'm sure we'll discuss it tonight. Now get dressed, you need to get off to work!"

"One minute, I need to make myself look a bit more human," Sarah said, turning to her mirror. She smoothed some lotion into her skin, and then took a good look. Usually, she needed to do the usual of plucking a few stray brows and using quite a bit of makeup. Her odd sleeping habits gave her daily deep dark circles under her eyes. Today, though, she wouldn't need anything at all. "Whoa, I look great! But I usually don't do the delicate feminine thing, why can't magic make me more punk?"

"Hah! This is the starting point," Aurie said, "you only need to really imagine how you want to look today to make it happen. This is how you wish you looked every time you woke up, right?"

"So true," Sarah replied, "let's try this out." She moved her hands across her face, thinking of the way that her makeup usually looked for work. Striking black eyeliner, shining greens and browns, like a dragonfly for eyeshadow, and luscious lashes, which were naturally hers. Her lips were soft and slightly shiny. She looked fantastic. She tossed on her work clothes, the slightly baggy black pants, and tight colorful tank top under the black t-shirt. _Cute,_ she thought, _I'm a little punk...or a lot. _Satisfied, she went to blow dry her hair and brush her teeth, only to find that her work was far more effective than usual. She threw on her earrings and beaded necklace. "Aurie," she said, "these bracelets don't really fit the look, can I disguise them, too?"

"Works like your makeup," the cat said tiredly. So, Sarah imagined a really pretty punk picture she had seen a while back. Looking down, she was wearing thick leather bands on her wrists, one with silver patterns, one with gold. With a slight giggle, she ran downstairs to grab some toast for breakfast, the cat close behind.

"I'll do my best to be normal today, ok?" She said.

"Yes, good plan, girlie," Aurie said. "Don't get too tired, today. We'll be doing lessons tonight."

"Oy," Sarah groaned, "Okay, but when do I get to sleep?" She was answered with only a giggle from the cat, which seemed an odd sound in the first place. With that, Sarah rushed off to work.

Jareth sat in his study, facing his adviser. "You've returned from Zandam early, Kaltar."

"Indeed, sire, the council appointed a new observer to the Aboveground, and I felt that you would prefer a personal account."

"Proceed," Jareth said, impatiently. He wanted to return to solving the problem of contact with Sarah, but had to complete his duties to his kingdom.

"Sire, my daughter was chosen. She leaves for the Aboveground at dawn."

"Her position there?"

"She will be with the young adults, sire. She will attend one of their _Universities_, a place for higher education."

"Kaltar, she was there a few months ago. Why are they reusing the observers?"

"Sire, only these two are being continually reused. The Ladies of Taire and Miled have secured themselves well trusted and influential positions. They are in the same mortal city as the girl you watch," the shorter man said. At this, the king perked up considerably.

"Really?"

"Indeed, my own daughter attends a class with her."

"And the pixie?"

"Holds employment at the same, ahem, _establishment_."

"An interesting revelation, Kaltar, how is it that I have not noticed this coincidence?"

"The council strips them of all but the most basic magics. Things are provided _for_ them, but they cannot conjure or cast for themselves. It was one of the edicts passed in council two years ago."

" I see, makes some sense, I suppose," the king said, thoughtfully. "Though I admit that sending two fairly influential Ladies into the Aboveground stripped of their magic seems a risky gamble for information."

"Yes, sire," Kaltar said, pulling a seat out at the king's hand gesture. "The council has noticed something that I believe you might have noticed, yourself. Magic is _not _dead in the mortal realm."

"Indeed."

"Ptah believes the ancient bloodlines have somehow been activated, sire," he said, "The librarian attempted to contact Fu, Lu, and Shou, but they won't respond. This, as you well know from previous experience with the girls, means that they are most likely up to something."

"They activated it," Jareth said, thinking, "they're the only ones who could have. Aboveground mortals require descendants from each of the magical lines to live at the same time to activate their magic. Tiny little Fu took the amulets from the dead mothers after the Third Battle of Magh Tuiredh, just before Separation."

"And," Kaltar said, "the magic they had requires balance. It cannot work if only one or two of the lines exists. All five lines must live at once, and all five lines must have relatively pure royal blood, and..." Jareth interrupted.

"They must all be female."

After a fairly tedious day working around coffee and food all day, Sarah returned home exhausted. Having managed to nearly forget about her odd night and early morning, she immediately flopped onto her bed with a groan. Her muscles were screaming for some sleep. She had managed to relax enough to nearly fall asleep when a heavy weight dropped itself into the middle of her belly.

"Oof! dammit, Aurie, what was that for?"

"Forgotten about our lessons already, Sarah?" The sliding, whispering voice of the cat came to her. "We have much to accomplish."

"I'm so tired, though," Sarah complained. "I didn't sleep last night, and classes start tomorrow!"

"You will rest enough tonight, girl," Aurie chided, "If we start now, you'll be asleep well before midnight." Groaning, Sarah got off of her bed, changing into something more comfortable than her work clothes. Jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. She curled her legs up under her on the sofa in her room, and lit a cigarette.

"I'm assuming we talk first," Sarah said after a drag.

"Indeed, little girl, please pay close attention, though. It will all be important to you later."

With that beginning, a long evening of the discussion of Earth's magical history began. Hours went by, Sarah absorbing as much as she felt she could. She learned of wars that raged across many lands, only to be recorded as mythology in her people's tales. Aurie told her of races that she had never even heard of in the popular stories. She learned of the Nefaireacks and the Nosse, of the Tuatha De Danann and Formorians. Aurie did not have every bit of information possible. She knew the basics though, and then imparted another vital bit. Her family, somewhere, was in possession of a set of books that would be needed to reach her full potential as a magic wielder. The knowledge and history contained would be priceless in their aid of understanding. _The Books of the Dun Coe._

"By all the powers in existence," Jareth breathed.

"Oh, wow," echoed Kaltar.

"Contact Ptah," the king said, standing quickly, "he will wish to know about this. _The Books_ survive, and are Aboveground."

"On my way, sire," he said, standing. He drew a small silver wand and drew a circle on the ground, etching a letter on each side. He stepped onto the circle and muttered to himself quietly. Light rose from the floor, and with a shimmering flash, Kaltar was transported to Zandam. _Such is the way of Milesian travel,_ thought the king, _though I do prefer the theatrics of my crystals._ With that thought, he conjured another crystal to watch the brunette beauty and her raven cat. She was digging through an old wooden box picking out incense sticks and cautiously sniffing them under the watchful eye of the cat.

"Honestly, Aurie, this incense is ancient. It can't possibly do what you say it does, "Sarah was saying, "besides, it doesn't even smell like myrrh."

"It's not myrrh," Aurie said quietly, "just find the one that smells the _most_ like it."

"Kay, I think this one smells more like it than the others, but it still smells a bit like amber," Sarah said, laying a stick in front of the cat. Aurie sniffed at the stick as well.

"Good, this is the correct one. You will need the small dagger from this morning, as well as a length of white ribbon."

Placing the stick in it's holder, Sarah sat on her floor cushion with the ribbon, looking expectantly at the cat. Following instructions, she tied one length of ribbon around each hand, and one across her eyes after lighting the incense. She picked up the tiny dagger, cutting a very small mark on the end of her finger while whispering the words that Aurie had given her. She placed a drop of blood on her lips, and then pressed some at the base of the incense stick. The air around her began to swirl with the misty smoke. Everything began _dancing_. The visions didn't attack her like they had in the past, but seemed to focus in as she concentrated on them. It seemed a blessing to be able to control the disorientation. She focused and began.

_The small hands from before...weaving and sewing. The skin looked like molten caramel. The tiny woman came into view. Black hair with streaks of red and gold. Blue markings in the center of her forehead. She looked like she was a mix of every race on earth. High cheekbones, soft curls, and a generous mouth. Her eyes...they looked vaguely Asiatic, but had no color. They glowed with a soft light that seemed to shift and swirl. Thin draping fabric hung from her hips, held by a low-slung copper belt. The same fabric crossed her chest, connecting to a matching copper collar, with a single black stone set in the center. Sarah's mind formed the name, 'Fu'. The figure actually replied to this, leaning towards the vision-Sarah. 'Not for you, yet, seek other visions.'_

Sarah felt herself being pulled inward, into the center of herself. She focused on seeing what she could. _The shining string, her soul string floated before her. It looked vaguely feather-like, floating there. She was surrounded by a white mist. Robed figures stepped from the mist. "Who are you," she whispered._

_"We are you, each of us. We help make you who you are." Flickering images could be seen through the mist. She headed towards one, and found the place with the strange stone, like opals. The sea could be seen through an open archway, and a quiet breeze blowing. Dark orchids hung from the arch's keystone. She looked towards the sea, and saw great creatures walking in the surf, a good distance from the land. Dark skinned, some were blue, some green, some black. All had thick black hair. They would have looked like giant men and women, but their shoulders seemed impossibly wide, and their hips and legs impossibly small. She turned, and saw great trunks of belongings being locked and transported. A cat jumped atop one trunk exclaiming, "Sieara, it is time for us to leave. The age of Separation is upon us." She watched as the dark creatures slipped into the sea, splashing and singing in sorrowful voices. She set herself into her ship, holding the sweet white cat as they sailed away from the opal palace. Before her eyes, a shimmering light surrounded the isle that had been her home, and the entire land began to descend. "They go under the Earth to the Underworld," her vision self said._

_"Nay," the cat whispered, "their leaders called it the Underground."_

**Author's Note: I know my chapters aren't terribly long, but I'm really enjoying writing this little story! I've actually started doing quite a bit of research on mythology to make things fit well together. Thank you to Not Human and to SilverWing02 for the reviews. I promise to try to fit some JS interaction in the next chapter or two, but school starts this week.**


	5. Back to School

Yadda yadda yadda. Same old disclaimer here. Please remember, though, that this PLOTLINE and original characters, are mine. Muahaha.

_**Golden Threads**_

_Chapter 5: Back to School_

As it was nearing midnight, exhaustion finally claimed Sarah. The visions alone were near enough to drive her into her blankets, in hopes of solitude an silence, but having been up since the morning before had her physically exhausted as well. She crawled into her low bed, pulling the quilt up under her chin. School would start again the next day, and she didn't want to be a walking zombie on the first day of the semester. All of the strange things that had been happening lately had her on edge. How was she supposed to go to school and work while pretending things are normal, and then come home and have visions and talk to her cat? Things didn't seem to add up in her mind.

"Goodnight, Aurie," she said quietly, "now for some peaceful sleeping."

"Sleep well, child," the cat replied quietly, "For your dreams shall not be peaceful. You shall find yourself soon enough."

"What do you mean, _find myself_?" Yawn.

"Your dreams will be a part of your journey. You shall see. Sleep now."

With that thought, Sarah began to drift off to some much needed sleep. A few hours of peaceful, energy restoring sleep passed by. Then the dreams came, the dreams of her past, in all of its humiliation, pain, and joy. The dreams that would show Sarah what this lifetime had made her, and what it had taught her. Royal eyes watched on, preparing to watch her dreams, as he often did. While he could not enter her waking visions, her nightly dreams were wide open to him. He got comfortable, knowing that this night's dreaming might take a while.

_A familiar face. It was Sarah's last real boyfriend. They were serious, in this instant. Flashes of their intimate moments. Passionate lovemaking, tiny gestures of care, long discussions about life. Shared hopes and dreams, interests, outings, dates. Confessions of love. Then the real nightmare hit. Sickness, the fear. Him stating clearly, 'If you were to get pregnant in the future, I'd take care of you. I think I could handle it at this stage of life, though I wouldn't wish for it. I'd do the right thing, probably marry you.' More sickness. The thin white stick, two pink lines. Tears. A phone call. 'I'm pregnant'. The anger. He breaks up with her, asks her to adopt the child out to a family. He's not ready to be a father, he says. They have classes. She starts to feel even more sick than before. She faints after some classes, and can't walk very far. Constant, shooting, burning, throbbing pain. The doctor. Discussions with parents. The disappointment of her family, of his. The distrust. Medical instruments. They had to terminate to save her life. Her body had tried to miscarry over and over again. Her blood pressure would crest, and then plummet. The baby's heart had slowed to an unhealthy rate. The blood. The abortion. No anesthesia. Horrible, ripping pain, as the nurse held her down to the table. The month of bleeding and pain that followed. Thoughts of suicide, tears, low grades, apathy. Alone. No-one to turn to. Internal strength. Friends coming to her, those she had ignored while with him. Shame. Resolve. Hopes and dreams, then they shattered. Sleep was her only solace._

_The dream shifts, the last funeral. Her grandmother, the last grandmother, passes. She is sick for days, unable to hold the most basic foods down. The tattoo, the promise to never forget those she had lost. Her grandparents, her child, and her best friend. The thought pulls her to the graveside of that friend. She had died early in college. Cancer, robbing her of the simple joys she had loved. A memory of her hands on the fresh soil of the grave. Tears. Farther back. She sees her love of performing. Dance. Winterguard. Theater. The feeling of electricity with her fellow performers when they were completely _on_. The rush of emotion running through them, and through the crowd. The elation of a great performance. The cheers. The awards. The standing ovation. Back. Middle school. Ballet, tap, jazz. Art. The beginnings of her passion to paint. Her first few masterpieces. Her pets, always there, always protecting. Always choosing their 'person' in the family. So many of them chose her. Her early abilities in academia. Reading and writing at three. Division at five. Farther back, her earliest memories. A desert, alive with color. Swimming, cool water. Snakes under the shade of a large oak tree. Her brothers and sister. Tea._

_Strange,_ thought the Goblin King, _that her first memory is of tea._ He thought more on the image that came to mind. Her mother, humming a haunting melody, while sliding fresh lemon slices into a large glass container. She was making sun-tea, Sarah's favorite. It was one of the only things the small girl could see, from across the room. Her thick glasses weighted down on her face. With her glasses on, things still needed to be far away for her to see them clearly. The fresh wonderful colors of the tea had drawn her attention. They went outside. Sarah, the tiny girl-child she was, pulled the glasses off. The horizon blinked sharply into focus. A falcon soared. Unusual for that part of the country, but the tiny Sarah had not known that. The bird was in perfect focus, over a hundred yards away. "Mommy," the tiny girl had barely said, "birdy gots a mouse!" She pointed. Her mother had lifted binoculars, for they were the reason for the outing, and gasped. There, dangling from the clutches of the falcon, was a pale gray mouse.

Jareth was in awe of the memory. Then he realized. The girl had had far-sight. She could see great distances with amazing clarity, but had not learned to see things nearby yet. That was common in fae children with the ability. He was angered, though, at the glasses. She had never truly needed them. Her mortal parents simply didn't realize what a gift their daughter had. The years of glasses and teasing had been unnecessary. Proof enough of that had come when Sarah had started coming into her power. Her vision was immaculate. A thought struck Jareth. _Why in all the heavens would a child with cat guardians have a falcon's far-sight?_

Morning dawned cold and early for Sarah. Her first classes of semester were pretty early in the morning, compared with the semester before. Yawning widely, she wiped at the remainders of tears on her cheeks. Why she had dreamt of the _fiasco_, as she called it, she didn't know. The last thing she had wanted to think of that morning was the baby, though. It always brought her down. _Well,_ she thought,_ that baby wouldn't have wanted me to fail completely at school, so I might as well get moving._ A quick breakfast and long hot shower later, and Sarah was in her sweet old car on the way to school. The cat had made her hide her necklace under her shirt, the mere thought of which had made Sarah giggle. Who would care if Sarah was wearing a weird necklace? That alone was pretty normal. She shrugged all strange feelings aside, as to get on with the day. She got to school early, and went off in search of her new classrooms. "Come on feet," she said, and stopped in her tracks. Where had _that_ phrase come from? _Next thing you know,_ she thought, _I'll be saying _all_ the lines from that movie._

Class to class, she went that day. Everything seemed pretty normal. They got their syllabi, book lists, test dates and such. Some classes made them take notes on the first day, and several gave out assignments. Her crossover class between anthropology and history seemed like it would be interesting, and Spanish was always useful, but her math course and literature course were rather dry. She loved reading, but not the old "literary classics" and definitely not most of the American authors in that classification. She would deal with it though. She would have to read some boring old stories about eras and people she didn't really care to read about, and pass the class. No big deal. She hadn't actually been to her literature course when she pondered this thought, though. She had a break. She sat down on a bench on campus and pulled her sketchbook from her bag. Letting her pencil drift across the page had always been a great idea before, and it seemed to be keeping her nerves calm until she looked down. Staring up from the page was a sketchy, but very clear image of a castle set in the middle of a great maze.

"Whoa, Sarita, nice sketch," a voice came from behind her, "somewhere you've visited?"

"Oh, yeah, Daize," Sarah said, shoving the book into her bag, " 'cuz they have castles in America." Her friend Daisy was always a little funny about travels, and bad jokes.

"Oh, yeah...HISASHIBURI DESUNE!" Daisy yelled, throwing her arms around her friend. "How was your break?"

"Boring, I guess," she said, snickering to herself. "Y tu?"

"Got back from New York on Saturday." Daisy had been planning that trip for weeks, saying she'd be out of touch while she was gone, but that she would be back right before classes, unless her mother and she got in another huge argument.

"Oooh! I still want to go there! How was it?"

"Shiny!" Both girls fell into fits of random laughter, thinking of the movie they'd seen the semester before, _Serenity_.

"Sou desuka?" Sarah asked, grinning.

"Geez, don't you two ever speak the same language for more than a minute?" a male voice said, approaching them, "Or, did you forget how?"

"Hey Jon," Sarah said, "you know we just like to confuse you mere males."

"Yeah, yeah...but can we at least keep it to a language we all know? We can't all speak like, four of them, like you two." Jon sat on the bench with the girls, opening a soft drink. Sarah regarded the young man on the bench. Shorter than either girl, and very distinctly Chinese, he was in their Japanese class, the next day.

"Come on, Jon," she said, "we all know you speak Spanish. You're a closet Mexican!" Daisy fell in on the joke.

"Yeah, Jon, that photo we have of you in the sombrero proves it!"

"Argh!" He growled and stood up.

"Gomene!" the girls said in unison, "Let's get some lunch!"

Jareth watched in his crystal, silently amused by the antics. The mind that Sarah possessed could be matched by few. She spoke several languages, though not with any real fluency, yet. Other than Spanish, she was still in the learning phase of the other languages. With her tiny amount of magic that she had used so far, though, she would be able to enhance her own ability to learn. With the great intelligence that she already possessed, that was a frightening prospect. Her world measured the ability to learn as intelligence. The IQ that was often so faulty as a person aged. Hers had been nearly 170 as a child, but she had declined any testing as she aged.

"Sire," Kaltar said, with a bow, as he entered Jareth's study. "I have brought the librarian."

"Councilman of Libraries, so good of you to come," Jareth said, standing to greet the guest, "I believe we have a good deal to discuss?"

"Indeed," he said, taking a seat. His white silk pants and loose fitting mesh robe settled elegantly on the chair. Ptah was still finely built at his age. Bronzed skin and defined muscles were displayed with a sense of modesty by the loose, flowing garments. The robe was barely covering his golden necklace and arm bands. Jewels and hieroglyphics shone from the metal. He looked the part of an Egyptian god, which ironically, he was to the Aboveground. Sharply contrasting, Jareth sat at his desk, as well. His black and gray ensemble, white hair and pale skin made him the silver to Ptah's gold. "M'lord of Goblins," Ptah started, "Shall we discuss recent events, the books, or people first?"

"Councilman of Libraries," Jareth started but was cut off.

"No need for such formalities, my boy, we won't have so much time for all of that, and I _am_ in _your_ home."

"Fair enough," Jareth said, and started over, "Ptah. I believe that first we should discuss Sarah."

"She is deeply entrenched in all three. Which aspect should we start with?"

"Recent events, then" Jareth said. "What is happening to her?"

Ptah brushed long black hair back from his eyes, looking thoughtfully at Jareth. "What isn't?"

**Author's Note: I know, I know. Another short Chapter. And a tiny bit of a cliffie, at that! **

**Hisashiburi Desune it's close to "long-time-no-see" in Japanese. It's only really used if you haven't seen a friend in a while. "Y tu" is "and you?" in Spanish. "Sou desuka" is the closest English spelling I could come up with for the Japanese phrase equivalent to "is that so?" It's also used for "Really?" "Gomene" is like, "sorry" in a way, though in this instance, I'm probably using it incorrectly. But then, they would know that, and say it anyways. I'm studying both languages for my major in school, so PLEASE don't criticize my use of them. Also understand, when I use Japanese, it's hard to show exactly how it should be spelled, without using their hiragana or katakana versions. So, SOU it's pronounced like "sow" or "so-u" but a continuation of the "o" sound in "so". Okay? Good. I know my chapters aren't very long right now, but come on...I have school and work to take care of! As usual, thanks to Not Human and SilverWing02 for the reviews they've been leaving me!**

**Also: I do not intend ANY offense or discrimination of ANY racial group with the jokes my characters are making. They are based off of a running joke with a group of my friends about our Chinese friend being mistaken for Mexican last year. It's his mustache, okay?**


	6. Researching

Generalized disclaimer.

_**Golden Threads**_

_Chapter 6: Researching_

Jareth and Ptah were in the library of the castle, in the Goblin City. Ptah, in a striking set of white and turquoise robes, paced throughout the length of the great room, reading aloud from one or more books which were somehow floating before him. One great volume rested in one of his hands, as he quickly moved his fingers along the page, seeking the next section to read to his scribe, who was following the pacing fae while scribbling frantic notes onto a slightly glowing tablet. Jareth, meanwhile, was gazing intently at one of his crystals, occasionally writing down a thought on one of the milky sheets of paper before him. It had been weeks since Sarah had started training with her guardian feline, Aurie, and the amount of information that had been retained Aboveground was astonishing. The things that were revealed to Sarah had not been heard in the Underground kingdoms for generations, and left much researching to be done by Jareth and Ptah. Of course, others were in on the action, but only in a cursory manner. Kaltar was busy helping keep goblins in check, and keep up appearances with the other kingdoms.

Within Jareth's crystal, a tiny image of Sarah moved about her home. It was still early enough in the day that Sarah's focus was on the more mundane aspects of life. She was cooking. She was stirring a pot of what appeared to be rice pudding, and another with some form of white meat and vegetables. Whatever other gifts Sarah had, cooking was not one of them. The interesting part of the scene was what she was doing _while_ she cooked. She was talking to herself and reading a textbook from her classes. She was conjugating verbs and phrases from English into Japanese, and then into Spanish. Occasionally, she would say it in French or Italian, but was obviously focusing on the other two languages. The book, however, was her anthropology text. On the table, a few feet away, was a book of mythology, and another for Calculus. She moved around the room a bit as she cooked, stretching her limbs and moving in graceful arcs and spins. It seemed she was dancing, in slow motion. She was smiling, though. It was something Jareth hadn't seen her do, genuinely, in a long time.

A sound caught his attention, and in the reflection from the surface of the crystal, turquoise could be seen. A gold trimmed sleeve fell in front of Jareth's face. Ptah was getting his attention, surely.

"I know Abovegrounders value multi-tasking, Jareth, but is _that_ normal for her?"

"Ptah, surely you forget your own teachings. What exactly is your definition of normal?"

Chuckling, Ptah finally sat across the table from his friend. He tapped a tanned fingertip on the top of the crystal. "You've no doubt realized, though, that few of our _own_ kind have a mind capable of _that_. It took me nearly forty years to master the ability to move thoughts in compartments as she seems to do."

"I think," Jareth said, thinking back, "that she's always been able to do it in a small way, but has only recently discovered the ability to its full extent." Ptah watched Sarah for a few more moments before leaning slightly forward and placing a book of magical law in front of Jareth. The king looked at the pages blankly for a moment, so Ptah enlightened him.

"You can't contact Sarah directly without her calling for you, but you can still find out more about her new situation. You can still summon _objects_ from Aboveground."

"What object could I possibly summon that would help? I can't call on specific magical items, so I can't get the Books of the Dun Coe, or her interesting pendant, for that matter."

"Jareth, mortals have the same love of keeping records of things as the dwarves do. And since she's obviously related to at least one of the magical lines, why not pull up some information on her family's past?" The king looked at the councilman, dumbstruck. It was such an obvious answer.

"By the powers, Librarian," Jareth said, smacking himself in the forehead, "we are _such idiots!_"

Sarah was curled up on the sofa in her attic room, listening to the television program on some ancient construction project while reading one of her textbooks. She reached across the coffee table to pull an ashtray closer to her. She took the last drag from her cigarette, exhaled, and jammed it out in the little glass tray. Aurie, ever present, flopped herself down on the back of the sofa. "Why the frustration, child?"

"I'm getting tired of school already, Aurie," Sarah said. "As important as I know it is to have an education, I wish I was done with it already. I love to learn, but this is just kinda boring."

"Let's take your mind off of things."

"No, Aurie, no practicing rituals, or exhausting myself over the history of magic on Earth, tonight."

"No, but how are you really doing? I've been working you for a while now, and you just keep going. Talk to me." Sarah looked at Aurie for a moment, and then turned her gaze back to the television. She relaxed back into her couch cushions, fiddling with the end of her short hair, staring at it with seeming intensity. Shoving her hands through the short locks, she looked back to Aurie.

"Why me? Why now, for crissakes?"

Instead of answering, the cat jumped down and laid across Sarah's lap, nudging her hands into a petting motion along her neck. She stroked the cat's soft fur, and let herself be lulled into a dozing state. She closed her eyes and let herself rest a while.

Kaltar bowed deeply at the edge of the dais, not too far from Jareth's throne. He was holding a day of meetings with subjects. It was one of the pretenses that Jareth was keeping up, to show his land that he was still governing like they thought he was. They wouldn't know that he was spending the majority of most of his days seeking answers about a mortal woman from across the barriers, in the Aboveground. Jareth nodded to his adviser, who climbed the short steps up and stood to Jareth's side. He leaned towards the king's ear, whispering for a moment. Jareth turned quickly, sitting up so suddenly that the members of his court turned to look for a moment. The king spoke so animatedly with his adviser that his long blonde locks shook for a moment. A few sharp hand gestures, and Kaltar bowed again, before turning and hurrying from the room. A few of the fae women who were visiting court whispered to one another as the king stood from his throne. "Lords and Ladies," he stated clearly, with a shallow half-bow, "our audience will now conclude for the day, barring any urgent issues. Please, enjoy the fine foods awaiting you in the dining hall." With this, he strode quickly from the hall, leaving his courtiers in a mild state of confusion.

Stepping quickly into a corridor, he met with Kaltar, who was walking directly towards him. The shorter man nodded curtly and lead the king into his study, quietly shutting the door behind them. He shuffled a few scrolls around for a moment, and placed one with a long chart in front of his sovereign. "Kaltar, what is this?"

"M'lord, the ancestry line of Lady Sarah of the Aboveground."

"Why not simply bring me the documents themselves, Kaltar?"

"Mortals do not keep their ancestries in documents as well compacted as we do, sir," Kaltar said, while stacking other scrolls and bound volumes onto the desk, "that scroll is a condensed version of the other documents that Lord Ptah and yourself summoned. If you'd rather see them for yourself, they are here."

"No, Kaltar, you have done well, let us look, shall we?" Jareth poured over the chart, tracing lines back into the branching history of Sarah's bloodlines. He furrowed his brow. "Call Ptah."

**A/N: SORRY! I know, my chapters are really short, and getting farther between...really, I'm sorry. I have 18 hrs of classes, and still have to work a lot of hours. :( Hopefully, I'll manage to get some more LONG chapters in the next week or two, instead of these cheap versions. :)**


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